August 29, 2009

• The sea is calm to-night.
  The tide is full, the moon lies fair
  Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
  Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
  Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
  Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
  Only, from the long line of spray
  Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
  Listen! you hear the grating roar
  Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
  At their return, up the high strand,
  Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
  With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
  The eternal note of sadness in.

  Sophocles long ago
  Heard it on the Ægæan, and it brought
  Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
  Of human misery; we
  Find also in the sound a thought,
  Hearing it by this distant northern sea.

  The Sea of Faith
  Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
  Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
  But now I only hear
  Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
  Retreating, to the breath
  Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
  And naked shingles of the world.

  Ah, love, let us be true
  To one another! for the world, which seems
  To lie before us like a land of dreams,
  So various, so beautiful, so new,
  Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
  Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
  And we are here as on a darkling plain
  Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
  Where ignorant armies clash by night.

   

   

  Life is complicated in so many ways. We try to make slogans and answers for life's problems and think up black and white ways to play it out but experience seems to be the only thing which makes thinks appear black and white - and, of course, you couldn't possibly know that beforehand (bit of a sadistic set up, really).

  In all honesty (I don't remember when it started), life doesn't make much sense to me. And, of course, there isn't an entirely clear way to describe that. We might say we live life for purpose - doing things. Yet everything I do seems to give me a high before dropping me. Is that what life was meant to be? Heh, why wouldn't I be surprised? I enjoy and love helping people - but I stop and I don't know what to do with myself. Having depression, of course, never helps anything. I stay up 'til 4 because it's only then I feel normal and like I have purpose and reason and am actually doing something. Is that normal? I feel like when you have something joyfully screwing around with the chemicals which govern your emotions, you can't look at life with a clear eye.

  If you can't tell by now, I love literature. I think we can learn so much from it. Understand - when I create a layout utilizing the imagry and telling ability of a photo, music, and (most importantly) quotes, it's because I honest to God feel by taking all this in and reading into and out of it and processing it and wringing it dry of all the secrets it may hold will give you Truth.

  But there it is again - I'm observing. I like going to parks, busy or empty, and enjoying the weather, listening to music. I'm observing. When I'm writing, I'm philosophizing (the art itself is breath-taking) - but I'm once again observing.

  I don't know what I feel I'm missing but I feel like all of this has something sickingly lacking from it all. One might sum up my entire life that way.

  Life shouldn't just be the gribbing and gleaning parts of a story - life is brushing our teeth, eating, farting, sleeping, and every other thing we choose to think too unimportant to include when we think of it. So then what? Am I to revel in every one of those moments? At least acknowledge them? I doubt that'll remove this persistant feeling.

  There's a lot people won't tell you. They won't tell you how big of a difference 18 years will make on your life. They don't tell you that life is meant to be learned - don't think of it as some damn goal. Embrace it and consider every waking present moment as the time you're in - ignore the future and remember the past (but don't live in it).

  The future? It'll come. And it'll come as you want because, 5 years from now, it's not going to matter you humiliated yourself - during that day, you'll know how not to humiliate yourself. Better yet, you'll probably have a steady and stable social network and life'll  be better.

  Live life to LEARN.

  We're all learning, taking in. Our experiences are what make us. And, as hard and difficult it is to wrap our heads around with the way we've been taught, life is a journey. And not all of us are at the same place in ours. What someone is now may not be who they are later in life. And that future person is no less important (though that doesn't mean we should slack expectations of the present person).

  What am I doing with my life?

  I - don't - know.

  I'm pursuing a profession that banks entirely on my success for my survival (considering my lack of confidence in myself and my own admitted laziness, this should be interesting).

  I'm a person who needs continual re-affirmation for me to believe in and not doubt something in a world that hates repeating itself.

  I'm an individual who is satisfied if able only to make a difference in one small way in one person's life - and while that belief in the importance of every little actions is great and needed, it draws the eyes away from the bigger plots and ideas. Oh, they didn't tell you? Being counter-revolutionary in the world often runs the possible consequence of getting crushed by everyone going the opposite direction.

  And, as a final thought and wonder, is there anyone who utterly (or, I guess, adequately) knows me?

  Once again, I find myself drifting. And, while I dislike this idea of just going along and enjoying the things you pass by, I have no other answers.

  It's odd how life can down you and interest and excite you so much at the same time.

   

  I occassionally wonder what people will think of me when I go (you know, to wherever we go when we die). Will they be inspired by my ideas? I'd find it ironic, considering my own belief in a lack of answers. Will they hate me? I'm sure there must be at least one. Will they think me misguided, a zealous believer in things which made no sense and, thus, acted childishly about them? Will they find me no more special than the next? Will I stand out in their mind when they remember me? Will they mourn me? How much and for how long? Will they think of me as always trying to do best? Did I? I hate when I have more questions than answers.

   

   

  And, on a completely off, random, and unrelated note (well, mostly), anyone know how I might better advertise http://www.accept.co.nr/? I'm out of ideas (leastwise, none that don't end up costing more than I'm willing to spend) and I think the issue still is just not enough traffic. Then again, maybe people just don't care about the idea. I dunno.

   

  Senc' kjût c'ievb'asy - ævû i xnâ åkâ ut j lèy.

  • 5:46 am
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